


A Quick Learner

by silver_fish



Series: fluff bingo! [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Fluff, Mario Kart, Multi, THIS IS LITERALLY. SO STUPID, ginny is a fucking savage, help this is so dumb, lets be real., ron weasley discovers video games he is never the same again, specifically mario kart double dash it is of course the best one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22919113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_fish/pseuds/silver_fish
Summary: Video games. It's one of those things not a single one of them ever did as children (though Harry says he might as well have, how often he watched his cousin playing them). But when half the Weasley clan is suddenly invested in them, they really have no choice but to follow along.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Series: fluff bingo! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647298
Comments: 15
Kudos: 144
Collections: Writing Squad Fluff Bingo





	A Quick Learner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/gifts).



> [twitter](https://twitter.com/laphicets) / [tumblr](https://kohakhearts.tumblr.com)
> 
> mario kart: double dash!! released in the eu in november 2003 on the gamecube so this is probably set sometime around there. it _is_ the best mario kart game. if youve never played it you should. literally the only downside is that coconut mall isnt introduced until mario kart wii. my lovely friend krissey requested mario kart + the golden trio (romo though there's not a ton of romance cause like...mario kart is intense, guys) so here we are!!! this was so difficult to write because i could not take a single thing seriously, hence the crack tag LOL. part of a bingo challenge in my writing server, which is all fluff prompts (server invites are always open, so if you want to get in on this just hit me up!). so anyway, i hope you enjoy! this is definitely in top 5 dumbest things i've ever written.

It’s Arthur’s fault.

This is the general consensus, amongst all of them. Molly would look upon them all in exasperation, though there is a fondness too, like even after all this time she can’t help that she finds Arthur’s Muggle obsession endearing.

Hermione, herself, leans a bit more towards exasperation. When Arthur asked if he could come over to “borrow” their electricity, she rather expected him to bring something like a blender, maybe a coffeemaker, something small, simple. He has done it before, after all, ever since they informed him of their living situation. Sometimes, Hermione wonders if Arthur really ever comes to visit _them_ , actually, or if he is just interested in their household appliances.

She and Harry, having grown up in the Muggle world, were not quite willing to disconnect entirely. Hogwarts was one thing, but now they are adults, and maybe they do have magic but sometimes it is just _easier_ to flip a switch, and, anyway, Ron never complains about it. In fact, he seems to have grown quite accustomed to life with electricity himself.

But _this_ …

Well, this is getting out of hand.

The entire Weasley clan, it seems, has settled into her sitting room, crowded around the television. This isn’t theirs, either, but rather something Arthur has invested in—and Hermione has told him about, at length, all about _cathode rays_ and _electrons_ , though she barely even knows it herself, only really learned in the first place because he asked her and since when did she _not_ know something?

There is that other thing, too, which sits in front of the telly. Two cords from the back, found from the front. A white rectangular thing, which Harry smartly informs them is a “memory card.”

The GameCube.

Even now, Hermione has no idea why or how Arthur got it. He just says he “found it,” but Ron tells her, darkly, that she does not want to know how he “finds” his Muggle things. Hermione rather thinks he ought to just try out a yard sale, but when she suggested that, he only met her eyes with a blank stare and she sighed, dropping the subject.

Right now, it is Ron, George, Ginny, and their father who have taken over the console. Hermione stands behind the couch, watching as they compete, transfixed as they are by the very concept of gaming.

“I feel like I’ve been transported back fifteen years,” Harry remarks from behind her, causing her to jump. When she turns to face him, he grins and hands her a cup of tea, already nursing his own. “You know, my cousin was obsessed with video games, but I never played a single one.”

“I thought they were idiotic,” Hermione admits. “I still kind of do.”

“You say that now,” he says seriously, “but you’ve yet to be inducted into the _Mario Kart_ tournament.”

“Have _you_?”

“Well, no. But I’ve been in the kitchen. Besides, they think we’ve played this before, ‘cause we grew up with Muggles.” He rolls his eyes. “Like my aunt and uncle would ever let me do something like that. If I breathed wrong they were on my case about having _too much fun_.”

“But I don’t even see how it _can_ be fun.” She frowns, while, ahead of her, Ginny lets out a loud whoop and declares, “You guys _suck_!”

“Less violent than Quidditch, at least,” he says mildly, then takes a seemingly contemplative sip of his tea.

“I suppose I’m really not cut out for this,” Arthur says, sounding very disappointed in himself, as if placing tenth in _Mario Kart: Double Dash!!_ is a massive stain on his reputation. “Muggle children really play these all day?”

“That was an exaggeration,” Harry tells him, speaking up to be heard over the now bickering siblings. “Some of them will for hours a day, though, I reckon, yeah.”

“ _Brilliant_. Muggles are truly fascinating, Harry. I had no idea.”

Harry shoots an amused glance in Hermione’s direction before turning back to the Weasley patriarch. “We’re probably not the best source on this, though, you know.”

Abandoning his controller, and, presumably, his place in the game, Arthur stands and comes around to join them. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve never played video games, Mr Weasley,” Hermione puts in kindly.

He looks stricken, suddenly. “But—I thought this was something all Muggle children did?”

She shakes her head. “It wasn’t really my thing, and, anyway, my parents didn’t like them.”

“I wasn’t allowed,” Harry says, shrugging. “But they didn’t interest me very much, either.”

“So, what did you do, then?” He sounds so _genuinely_ confused, as if he has really come to believe, even in such a short time, that video games are like some sort of rite of passage for Muggles. Hermione finds her lips twitching at the thought, at how very childlike this grown man is where all things Muggle are concerned.

“Read books?” Harry suggests. “Or—I didn’t, but I reckon Hermione must’ve, anyway. And, anyway, we went to school, didn’t we? We were busy most of the day anyway.”

“Right,” Hermione agrees. “Lots of books. Maths homework, too, every day.”

Arthur blinks. “Well, then. Well…then you simply must try it out, shouldn’t you? Go on, one of you take my place—”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Harry says hastily. “Really, I just made us tea—”

“Nonsense! You have to try it, Harry, you’ll love it.”

Harry looks doubtful at that, but he relents, as they all tend to do once Arthur sets his mind to something like this, pressing his own cup into Hermione’s free hand with a heavy sigh.

As he turns away and sits down on the floor at Ron’s feet, Arthur says to Hermione, “I should be going, now, anyway. Molly will be waiting for me. Always a pleasure to see you,” he adds, beaming, and Hermione translates this as _Always a pleasure to use your electrical outlets_ , but she simply smiles back and returns the sentiment, helping him find his coat and leading him to the door.

Their flat is Muggle and so it does not, of course, have a fireplace, but there is an Apparition point not so far away. Ron insists that it _is_ too far, to which she will roll her eyes and tell him that he ought to learn to drive, then, if he’s going to be like _that_. He keeps saying he will, but it has been years, now, and Hermione cannot say she didn’t have her doubts the _first_ time he said it, let alone the hundredth.

After she sees him out, she turns to see Ginny glowering at Ron.

“ _I’m_ Bowser, you wanker, pick someone else!”

“But Harry stole my character!”

“I did not,” Harry retorts. “You were just too slow.”

“Doesn’t matter who you play as,” George informs them easily. “Princess Peach and Daisy will kick your arses.”

It has been like this _all_ day.

Shaking her head, Hermione finally enters the room and sits down beside Ron, who has—though very unhappily—selected the monkeys.

“Can you believe it?” he asks her. “I was Yoshi, and then he just came in and—!”

“You’ve been switching every time,” Ginny argues. “Do you even hear yourself? Harry, why do you put up with him?”

“He’s all right sometimes,” Harry tells her, shrugging.

“ _Sometimes_?” Ron demands. “I made you breakfast this morning.”

“He made me toast. Forgot the butter.”

Ginny and George burst into laughter, while Hermione titters sympathetically.

“He remembered the marmalade,” she points out in feeble defence.

“Glad _someone_ is on my side,” he grumbles, to which Harry looks over his shoulder and grins.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to think.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?!”

“We’re starting!” Ginny singsongs, and Ron mutters something under his breath about _bloody cheaters_ before facing the telly again, determined.

Hermione watches them more than the screen, impressed though maybe not in a _good_ way at their intense concentration. They are all Quidditch players, she supposes, and so winning is important to them, but this is, frankly, ridiculous.

As Ginny crosses the finish line for the third time, she crows, “I win again!”

George, right behind her, huffs in indignation. “If you hadn’t used that blue shell—”

“It’s part of the game!”

“A bad part!”

“At least you guys are in the top three,” says Ron miserably, dropping the controller on his lap. “You got me off my game.”

“You were never _on_ your game, Ronniekins.”

He scowls. “I was so!” He pauses, then asks, “Mate, what are you doing? You’re not gonna finish like that!”

“I was trying to get an item,” is Harry’s mulish reply. “But I missed it the first time, so I went back and everyone passed me.”

“You’re worse than Dad!” Ginny laughs. “I thought you’d be _good_ at this.”

“Well, I’ve never played before, either!” He huffs. “Fine, I’ll show _you_. Come on, let’s go to the next one, then!”

And so it is that Harry is inducted into the _Mario Kart_ Tournament.

It must go on for hours. Hermione eventually rises to dump the rest of Harry’s mostly untouched tea, then to make herself another fortifying cup. She puts far more sugar in than is necessary—or even tasteful, really—in hopes that it will help her deal with them until the excitement has died down. Finally, _finally_ Ginny is declared the winner, and then George is putting his controller down in defeat, telling them he really ought to be getting home so he can wake up in time to open in the morning.

“I should probably be going too,” Ginny says, stretching her arms above her. “My plants won’t water themselves.”

“They could, though,” Ron points out. “Mum probably knows a spell, if you just asked her.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “It feels more intimate this way. Keeps me from getting lonely, you know. You don’t even know how lucky you are, living with real people!”

“You chose the plants, though,” George reminds her, grinning. “What was it you said? So Mum would stop asking if you had a boyfriend yet?”

“Yeah.” She glares playfully at Ron. “If only this one hadn’t _stolen_ mine.”

“Oh, come on,” complains Harry. “I’m right here!”

“Like I’d want to marry you, anyway,” Ginny says, sniffing. “I’d never want to be with someone so _horrible_ at _Mario Kart_.”

“Well…well I guess it’s a good thing Ron’s standards are so low, then!”

“Now you’re just insulting the both of us,” Hermione points out, lips twitching. “Maybe you’d like to try that again?”

“No,” Ginny cuts in, “I think that’s a perfect place for us to take our leave. Well, thanks for having us, then! Just let me know when you think you’re ready for a rematch!”

And then she is gone, an amused George trailing behind her. As the door closes behind them, Harry flops down on Ron’s other side with a hefty sigh.

“She’s a menace,” Ron says, as if in agreement.

“Well, now I _have_ to beat her, you know.”

Hermione doesn’t know what she expected, honestly.

“We have the advantage,” Ron points out. “You know, ‘cause they don’t have electricity, so we get to keep this thing. We’ll just practice, then beat her next time.”

“You do have _jobs_ , you know,” Hermione reminds them, but they both look at her as though they think she’s gone mad.

“We have lives outside our jobs, don’t we?”

Ron nods empathetically. “And isn’t this better than pubbing, Hermione? You must think so, c’mon, you’re always saying—”

“I prefer you when you’re obsessing over Quidditch, honestly.”

“Quidditch is old news,” Ron dismisses. “Play _one_ round with us, come on, you’ll like it! There’s nothing dangerous about it _and_ there’s a ranking system.”

“It’s basically an exam,” Harry says sagely. “Practice is just like studying.”

“Those are _not_ the same.”

“That’s why I said _basically_ , isn’t it?”

He really is so much harder to argue with than Ron, she thinks. Not that his logic makes any _sense_ , but that he gets this look on his face that is so very hard to say no to. She doesn’t think it is intentional—in fact, he probably doesn’t even know he is capable of making such a face—but it never fails to _work_ , is the problem.

“Fine,” she grouses. “ _One_ , but then you two better be making dinner.”

“Deal,” they chorus, grinning, and then Ron is shoving one of the abandoned controllers in her hand and pointing out all the things she has actually already gathered from watching them play all day. Still, she lets him explain, perhaps only because he seems so _excited_ —and this is what childhood was supposed to be like, isn’t it, excitement over mundane things like _video games_ , and yet this is the first time any of them have ever experienced it. She is warmed, at least, by the thought that they are doing it for the first time together, at least in a way.

After careful debilitation, she selects Toad from the roster and lets the boys choose the cup. They both maintain their intensity, and yet neither have _really_ improved since they first began, all those hours ago. At first, Hermione does far worse than them, but by the second course she is already pulling ahead.

“How are you doing that?” Ron demands. “We’ve been playing _all day_ —”

“Well, it’s just like studying, isn’t it?” She shoots him a cheeky smile. “I’m a quick learner, you know.”

“We should’ve listened when you told us we need better study habits,” Harry mutters, mournful. “I never knew there would be _practical_ applications.”

Like _Mario Kart_ matters more than his N.E.W.T.s did! Well, considering he never took them, maybe it does. Still, Hermione could kick him, if not for the fact that she is already kicking his arse at _Mario Kart_.

For this reason and this reason only, she lets the comment slide. This time.

By now, they are beginning the fourth and final course: Rainbow Road.

“Not even Ginny can win this one,” Ron whispers reverently.

“It’s impossible,” Harry agrees. “Reckon nobody can do it.”

Hermione just smiles. By now, she has gotten her grips on this game quite thoroughly. Flying has never been her thing—certainly she could never have taken to it the way Harry did—but _this_ is something she can understand. It’s all so much more technical, after all; though she has never really thought of them so before, video games _are_ rather scientific. She doesn’t know how they’re made, but she does know there is a process. And processes are things she gets.

Harry and Ron _try_ , but they fall off the edge at least a dozen times each. Though they groan and complain, Hermione pays them no mind: she is in first place, and she intends to keep it that way.

When she crosses the line for the last time, she drops the controller and turns to her boyfriends, victorious. They are not paying attention, however, as they battle each other for ninth place.

In the end, though, it is Harry who prevails.

“Ha!” he cries, giving Ron a playful shove. “How’s it feel, then? I _won_.”

Hermione snorts. “Did you, now.”

“Well…” He blinks, turning to face the screen again, which is now showing the final results. Harry has made it to third place overall, somehow, while Ron sits in fourth. Hermione is, of course, in first. “Oh. All right, then. You won.”

“Are you pouting?” She laughs, leaning against Ron to peer around him at Harry. “You’re not being a sore loser, are you, Harry?”

He sniffs. “Of course not. Beginner’s luck, that’s all.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really? Well, then I guess we should do it again, so you can get your shot.”

“That’s right, we _should_.”

Ron looks between them, uncertain. “I thought we were making dinner?”

“Not until Harry accepts his defeat,” Hermione declares, straightening up again. “I’ll pick the cup this time, I think.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry argues. “That’s practically cheating, if you choose it. Ron, you choose, since you lost—”

“You _barely_ beat me!”

“Yeah, but you still _lost_ , didn’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t even _want_ to play with you.”

“Don’t, then.” He grins. “ _You_ make dinner, and I’ll beat Hermione.”

“But—”

“Spaghetti sounds nice, what do you think, Hermione?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She hums thoughtfully. “I was thinking chicken, myself.”

“Why are you teaming up on _me_?” Ron complains. “Let’s just get takeaway and then we can all keep playing, yeah?”

Harry throws an arm around his shoulder, positively beaming. “Great! Guess that’s settled, then. So, one more before we go, then?”

They’re both looking at Hermione suddenly, as if it’s all up to _her_.

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But you’re not going to win this time, either, you know.”

“That’s what _you_ think,” Harry mutters, pulling away from Ron and turning serious again.

 _“Just one more”_ quickly turns into many more, however, as Ron and Harry continue to try (and fail) to beat her. Before long, dinner is all but forgotten once again and, just this once, Hermione doesn’t even mind. Not one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! xx
> 
> (p.s. catch me on twitter [@laphicets](https://twitter.com/laphicets) or tumblr [@kohakhearts](https://kohakhearts.tumblr.com) for writing updates. i also sometimes take writing requests on both!)


End file.
